Chapter 166: Three Lifetimes of Cause and Effect

This dream was long and chaotic; I spent a very long time in a vague, dark space. When a wave of dizziness struck, as if the space had suddenly changed, I realized I had arrived at a place I had never seen before.

By the clear, beautiful stream, white clouds drifted, the setting sun slanted, and the grass was green and lovely. There, several shapely girls were washing clothes.

But… what are those girls holding in their hands?

Upon closer look, I saw they were holding washboards. Moreover, the girls' clothing resembled ancient attire; not only that, they wore long braids—an outdated hairstyle no one nowadays would pursue.

At that moment, my head felt as if struck by lightning, leaving me dazed for a long time. Could it be that I really got hit by lightning, then stepped on a pile of luck and traveled through time and space?

Thinking that, I instinctively tried to grab a girl by the river to ask. Who knew, the scene would flow like a moving picture. I ran, and it kept pace with me. It was like a big screen playing a movie, always before my eyes; no matter how I tried to touch it, I couldn't even reach a corner.

At the same time, the scene shifted: several girls laughed and chatted, then simultaneously grabbed wooden basins and left one after another. Only a girl in hemp clothing remained sitting by the stream.

I couldn't see the girl's face clearly, but from her back I could tell her figure was slender, with a prominent front and curved back—a perfect model's shape.

She held a bronze hairpin, lost in thought, a faint smile playing at the corner of her mouth. As the sunset fell, a golden glow gilded her, making the scene look very beautiful.

After a few minutes, the woman kept looking back, anxiously stamping her feet and continually turning to wait. Her hurried, tense expression told me she was expecting someone.

Not surprisingly, about ten minutes later, a stout-built man appeared, but he only showed me his side and back.

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He felt like a big clumsy bear—even his head-scratching looked awkward.

After the man appeared, the girl became shy, lowering her head and turning her back to him without speaking. Then the man awkwardly scratched his head, as if he wanted to leave.

No need to look; he's a clueless fool, so dense he doesn't even understand a girl's thoughts.

Fortunately, the girl wasn't a pedant. Annoyed, she turned and tapped the man's forehead, forcing an object into his hand.

In an inadvertent glance, I finally saw clearly what the object was.

The object was a small red sachet. Of course, this sachet was not merely an ordinary one. In ancient times, earrings, hairpins, and such held special meaning for a girl.

"I went out the East Gate to roam, and met Chengchen Dust. Thinking of you is my secluded chamber, attending to your bed and holding your handkerchief. Without the mulberry-field pledge, I am forced to be this roadside person. I have flattered your appearance, and you have pleased my face. How to show my earnestness? Double gold rings around the arms. How to express my diligence? A pair of silver rings on the fingers. How to show my trifling devotion? Twin clear pearls in the ears. How to show my reverence? The sachet tied at the elbow."

In ancient times, if a girl entrusted you with her sachet, hairpin, or earrings, it clearly meant a love token.

So, after watching for so long, I finally discovered a laughable yet helpless fact! Damn, I spent half a day watching a young couple's date.

The scene shifted amid my bemused gaze; next, I saw the supposedly honest boy sneak into the girl's room in the middle of the night.

This left me greatly astonished, my worldview shattered, yet I secretly gave the guy a thumbs-up. Hell, if you'd done this earlier, you'd already have a kid. But it's not too late now.

Not long after that scene passed, the image shifted to a dim study, where a white-haired, pot-bellied old man, drunk, forcibly dragged a nearby girl onto the bed. The girl initially resisted with mild anger, but after the old man slapped her, she had no choice but to submit.

Immediately after, the girl and boy met under a tree, sobbing as they poured out their feelings. They exchanged some items, seemingly making a pact.

After returning, the honest-seeming man actually stole the master's belongings and packed them into a bundle.

At that moment, another scene appeared in the screen: a man wearing a velvet cap and silk robes fiercely slapped the girl several times, knocking her hard to the ground. Immediately, the old fat man pointed at her, shouting angrily. Amid his curses, a faint shadow of an old woman and an old man appeared on either side of the girl.

Those two shadows were like a wisp of smoke, appearing for less than a moment. What followed was a skull and a bright red celebratory robe. But these, too, appeared only briefly before vanishing.

Next, the girl, tears in her eyes, seemed to grit her teeth and agree to the old fat man.

If nothing unexpected… this indicates the old fat man is forcing marriage on the little girl.

Damn it, you show a movie and still test the audience's reasoning… Do you still want to make money? Even without sound, you could at least throw in some subtitles! Throwing in parents and a big red wedding robe—what are you playing at, assuming I'm Sherlock Holmes with an IQ of two hundred? Must you be this obstructive?

Regarding this sentient movie screen, I can only feel utterly powerless, venting my frustration helplessly.

As the images shifted, I had figured out the whole context: in a wealthy household, a maid and a servant loved each other and pledged lifelong devotion. Then the oily, fat male master seized the maid's body. When they were preparing to elope, who would have thought that the master, the old fat man, actually intended to take the maid as a concubine…

This is a corny, toothless tale! Yet the story's development does have some suspense—for instance, as an observer, I'm curious where the male lead, the servant, will ultimately end up.

The movie screen seemed to sense my impatience; soon, this scene appeared before my eyes.

On a dark, windy night, the main character, the foolish servant, returned to the place where he had agreed to meet the maid. Waiting for him was a gang of lackeys who rained down blows with clubs. The servant clutched his head and was beaten to death alive.

As the viewer, I couldn't help but widen my eyes, stepping back again and again.

Finally, under the barrage of sticks, I could clearly see the foolish servant's appearance… he looked exactly like Pangzi—same eyes, nose, and facial contours, as if cast from the same mold.

The maid who had privately pledged lifelong devotion to the servant, on her wedding day, had her veil blown aside by the wind as she stepped out, revealing a face streaked with tears.

…Although dressed in ancient attire, I still recognized her… that maid was actually Chen Mo.

Suddenly, I seemed to understand something? If nothing unexpected, I appear to have arrived at the past lives of Chen Mo and Pangzi.

It turns out they truly had a past life. Chen Mo wasn't lying; everything she said was true. She had this bizarre dream because, in her previous life, she owed Pangzi a debt—even if forced, Chen Mo truly betrayed Pangzi in that life.

And just then, another wave of dizziness struck, and the previous scene shifted on its own once more.

This time, what appeared was everything from our arrival in Aomen onward—Pangzi's encounters with Chen Mo, from the two times he threw himself to save her, to when he sacrificed himself outside the secret passage to save Silijing, and the complex, pained look Chen Mo showed.

All of this, everything, played back like a movie, scene by scene.

Three lifetimes of cause and effect—I have already seen the past life; the present life is just beginning. I stare fixedly at the scene ahead, eager to know what will happen next.

However, time froze at the moment Chen Mo and I were consulting in the small restaurant; all that remained for me was her desolate, forlorn silhouette as she turned and left.

At that moment, I suddenly felt a wave of weakness invading my whole body—this weakness was a hundred times worse than when I bit my tongue and overdrawn true yang saliva; even my head ached, leaving me no energy to think.

In that dizzy, disorienting unknown space where I couldn't tell east from west, I collapsed.